


Coming Home

by DaughterofElros



Series: Choice Beyond Control [5]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:14:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterofElros/pseuds/DaughterofElros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Nick finally takes the time to start acting instead of reacting, and makes the decision he's been avoiding for months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Nick doesn’t go straight home after leaving San Francisco. Going home and starting up on another investigation would just be another escape, another way that he’s letting his life lead him instead of the other way around. Nothing he’s done in the past months has truly been his decision- it’s all been his reactions and his lack thereof. Reactions to finding out he’s a Grimm, to being attracted to Monroe, to his own dishonesty. Running to Juliette after being with Monroe, running to San Francisco after Monroe nearly died…it was all reacting. Hell, he hadn’t even been the one to end his failing relationship with Juliette- she had done that, and his reaction to it was to gratefully go along.

He’s smart enough to know that he’s caused everyone, himself included, a hell of a lot of torment. So he wants to take some time to find his own two feet again and decide what he wants his life to look like before he goes charging off again.

With that goal in mind, he stops just long enough to collect some gear and heads out to Keenig Creek. He spends six days there, camping and hiking and _thinking_. Taking the time to reflect on what he wants out of life. It all keeps coming back to one thing. One person. Monroe.

It’s not just the chemistry between them, the way that he feels alive, almost electric whenever Monroe touches him, although that’s part of it. It’s the way his snark has always made Nick smile, and the way the Monroe sometimes smiles for him, just a little half smile that few other people catch. It’s the way that, despite being suspicious by nature, Monroe has always trusted him. It’s the fact that Monroe suppressed his prejudices almost without batting an eye and became Nick’s friend.

It because, as he’s hiking, Nick keeps noticing things that he wants to show Monroe, or wonders how long Monroe would expound on the beauty and grandeur of a particular vista. It’s because he finds himself looking at the world through Monroe’s eyes and liking what he sees.

He brews coffee in his campsite and immediately wonders if Monroe would approve or despair of its quality. He curls up in his sleeping bag each night and wakes up the next morning, wishing that Monroe were beside him. He catches himself imagining what he would say to Monroe, and what Monroe would say in return. He thinks of how he can ever begin to make things right between them.

And through it all, he’s happy, because he’s finally admitted to himself what he wants. Now all he has to do is make it a reality.

He has a plan. It’s carefully reasoned, thought out, and stable, and he follows it. He goes home, goes back to work, and tries to establish a routine. He tries to figure out who he is outside of a relationship. He doesn’t try to see Monroe yet, because that wouldn’t be fair to anyone- him, or Monroe, or even Juliette. It drives him crazy, but he sticks with it. He’s not going to fall back into his old pattern of rushing into things without forethought. He knows better than to do it in an investigation- he should also know better than to do it in his own life.

He texts, though. At first it’s just simple. Questions about a case he’s working.

_Know any Wesen that collect jewelery?_

_Not off the top of my head. You could try a Schnattergans. They’re drawn toward shiny things._

_Thanks._

Then later…

_BTW, I’m sorry. About the Nachzerer._

_It’s cool, man. Par for the course._

_I’m sorry I didn’t stick around._

This time, there’s no reply. Nick takes a chance, ventures further out on a limb.

_I miss you._

He waits several minutes, but there’s no response. He sets his phone back on the desk and stretches, forcing himself to release the tension he’s built up. His phone buzzes, and he scrambles for it.

_I miss you too._

Nick feels his face split into a massive grin.

 

Three days later, he’s standing on Monroe’s front porch, heart racing, knocking on the door and resisting the urge to shuffle his feet like a recalcitrant schoolboy. A moment later, Monroe is swinging open the door. Nick feels his heart kick it up another notch at the sight of the Blutbad. He looks good. Really good, actually. The top button of the worn white Henley is undone, and Nick can’t help but follow the long lines of Monroe’s neck to the hollow at the base of his throat.

“I wondered when you’d be by.” Monroe says gruffly, not quite opening the door to let him in. “What do you want?”

Every carefully planned word flies out of his head, and he answers with the only thing that seems to mean anything.

“You.”

A number of expressions flicker across Monroe’s face, each hinting at complex emotions behind them. Nick can’t begin to catch all of them, but a handful come through loud and clear. Disbelief. Distrust. Desire. Hurt. Exhaustion. Monroe shakes his head slowly.

“Nick, we’ve been through this before. It didn’t end well. It has no future. Maybe we should just leave it alone this time.”

“I ended things with Juliette.” Nick blurts out. Monroe’s eyes snap up to meet his.

“How long?” he finally asks.

“Almost a month ago.” Nick holds Monroe’s gaze, sensing the unasked question. “I waited, because I wanted to give myself time to be sure of what I wanted without rushing into something. And because I didn’t want you to think that this was some kind of rebound. I’m ready for this.”

“And what, precisely, is the _this_ that you’re envisioning?” Monroe challenges him.

“Everything. Anything.” There’s a pause, and he rushes to fill it, to try to explain. “I want everything, Monroe, but I’ll take anything. If you want something casual, without strings attached, or if you want me to walk away right now and be nothing more than friends, then I will learn to be okay with it because it’s what you want.” He takes a deep breath. “But there’s been this connection between us since the day I accused you of kidnapping that little girl, and I’ve been falling for you every day since then. I want to give it a chance. I already fall asleep every night thinking about you, and wake up every morning doing the same. I re-live the times we were together over and over in my mind. I want you more desperately than I’ve ever wanted anyone before in my life, but more than that, I want to know what we can be together.” He takes a deep breath. “And I’d like to start by taking you out to dinner.”

Monroe is looking at him with an expression he doesn’t know how to interpret. Much as he’s gotten to know Monroe, the man is still very much an enigma at times. So he’s still surprised when the blutbad reaches out, grasps his leather coat by the lapel, and drags him forward. Nick stumbles, but then Monroe’s lips are on his, aggressive and demanding, and nothing else seems to matter.

The world seems to tilt on its axis, and suddenly everything that’s been wrong and off and unsettled for months falls back into place. Monroe’s lips and the scratch of his beard, and the soft curl of his hair under Nick’s fingers is like coming home. It’s familiar and calming and _right_. Even as the kiss has him soaring, elation and arousal twining together, his blood roaring in his ears, he feels more centered, more grounded than he ever has before.

Monroe eventually relents and pulls back, leaving Nick to try to regain his breath. He gazes into Nick’s eyes, searching. Then he leans in again until his breath whispers across Nick’s cheek and his lips are inches from Nick’s own and growls,

“I’ll take a rain check on dinner…” He kisses Nick again, as though to drown out any protests, but Nick has none. Monroe drags him into the house, kicks the door closed, and presses him up against it. Nick clings to him, wanting to give Monroe everything, hardly daring to believe that after everything he’s said, and done, and _not_ done, he can still have this. There is a level of perfection in being back in Monroe’s arms that he had never dared to dream of when he was making all of his plans. He thought that he might have to beg and plead and prove himself before he could have this. He’s never been happier to be wrong in his life.

Monroe pulls back just the tiniest bit and nuzzles along Nick’s jaw. “I want you,” He murmurs, and there’s a hitch in Nick’s breathing.

“I’m yours.” Nick tells him honestly. “Completely.”

“You should be careful what you offer the Big Bag Wolf, Mr. Grimm.” Monroe warns. Nick grins.

“Does that make me Little Red Riding Hood?” he asks impudently, and Monroe narrows his eyes. Nick’s sparkle mischievously. “What incredible lips you have, Mr. Wolf,” he teases, licking his own appreciately.

“Oh, the better to kiss you with, my dear,” Monroe plays along, seizing Nick’s mouth with his own and kissing him breathless. Nick moans, and presses himself against Monroe so their erections are rubbing tantalizingly against each other.

“And what a big cock you have,” Nick observes boldly. Monroe growls and thrusts against him.

“The better to fuck you with, my dear.” He says, challenging the Grimm.

“Yes.” Nick breathes his acquiesence, and Monroe raises his eyebrows.

“Seriously?” the Blutbad asks, sounding surprised. “I thought we were going to have to work up to that.”

“Monroe, I told you that I want everything, and I was being honest with you. I’ve spent too much time jerking you around, unable to make up my mind to do what my heart was telling me, which was to be with you. I cost us months of agony, and I don’t want to waste another moment.” He threaded his fingers through Monroe’s hair. “So yes, I want you to fuck me, and I want to fall asleep with you beside me, and I want to wake up in the mornings and eat breakfast with you, and read the newspaper with you, and listen to you play your cello, and go over case notes while you’re working on one of your clocks. I want to lay in bed with you on rainy mornings and stay there until long after we should have gotten up. I want to share my life with you. I want everything that you’ll allow me, Monroe. Everything you’re willing to share.” He knows he should stop talking, because he’s practically babbling now, and Monroe is looking at him with an expression of wonderment. “Am I saying too much?”

Monroe shakes his head, grinning. “No.” he tells him. “You’re saying everything just right.” With that he kisses him deeply, claiming Nick’s mouth and trying for his soul in the same gesture. This kiss is different than the others somehow. There’s passion behind it- the same explosive passion that always simmers between them- but it’s more than that too, a sort of deep communication that has no translation. Nick knows though, with that kiss, that things are going to be alright. That they’re going to make this work, because it’s what they both want at the core of their beings, consequences and stumbling blocks be damned.

When Monroe pulls away and Nick can breathe again, he almost lets the three little words that he’s been holding onto tumble out, but he reigns himself in. It’s too soon, this second chance is too new for him to blurt them out yet, but that doesn’t change the fact that he feels it. This is love.

“I want all of those things too,” Monroe assures him. “But first, I want to have you.” He presses his hips against Nick’s, and Nick can feel how _much_ he’s desired. Monroe’s pupils are blown wide with arousal, and Nick is sure that his must be too. He wants this too, with a desperation and certainty that he’s been missing in his life for far too long.

“I’m yours.” He says, and means it.

Monroe leads the way up the stairs, but it seems impossible to stop touching, even for a second, so he links his fingers with Nick’s and draws him up behind him. The bedroom is much the same as Nick remembers it. The quilt is different, a dark green that’s more fitting for the season, but aside from that, little has changed. Monroe draws him to stand beside the bed and moves behind him, pressing their bodies together.

“Shirt. Off.” He commands, even has his hands move to Nick’s side to assist in the removal of the garment. His fingers drag along smooth skin as he does so, sending a pleasurable shiver up Nick’s spine. Nick pulls the shirt over his head and drops it to the floor. Monroe slides his arm around Nick’s waist, letting his fingers toy with the narrow trail of hair that disappears below his waistband.

“Earlier, at the door… You said that fall asleep every night thinking about me.”

Nick nods.

“And that you wake up thinking about me every morning.” Another nod. “Do you touch yourself when you think of me?” Monroe asks, letting his fingertips dip teasingly under that waistband.

“Yes.” Nick confesses with what could nearly be considered a moan.

“Good.” Monroe tells him, pulling this bodies flush and ducking his head to tease his lips along the shell of Nick’s ear, “Show me.”

Nick does moan then, dropping his head back to rest on Monroe’s shoulder even as he thumbs open the button of his jeans, his fingers splaying over his clothed erection, teasing himself for Monroe’s benefit. He shoves his hand inside the open jeans, stroking himself through the black cotton of his boxer briefs. He can hear and even feel the way that Monroe’s breath falters watching him, and he wants to tease Monroe further, but he’s torturing himself to do it. Impatient, he finally shoves the briefs down his hips enough to free his flushed, weeping cock. He keeps stroking himself lightly, although it’s getting harder and harder to restrain himself.

“This is what I do, Monroe, when I’m thinking of you. This is the effect you have on me,” He tells the blutbad. Monroe chuckles, and the sound goes straight to his cock, making it jump eagerly.

“It has a similar effect on me.” Monroe comments, rubbing himself languidly against Nick’s ass to prove his point. “What do you think about when you’re touching yourself and thinking about us?”

“I think about how hard you make me, and about your hands on me.” Nick replies steadily, “And I think about your mouth on my cock, and about having your cock in mine. I think about your hands on me everywhere.”

“And do you think about me fucking you, Nick?”

“Yes.” Nick grinds out with a groan. “God, yes!” He’s stroking himself faster now, thrusting into his own hand. Monroe loves how responsive he is, how much of an effect he has on the Grimm. But he’s not ready for Nick to come yet, and he can tell that the younger man is getting close, so he grabs Nick’s hand and pulls it away. He doesn’t fail to notice the way that Nick’s hips stutter as his seeks the stimulation it’s so suddenly been denied, or the way that he presses back against Monroe’s arousal.

“Get on the bed,” He directs. “Naked, on your hands and knees in the middle of the mattress.” Nick complies, moving quickly. It takes Monroe a moment to strip off his own clothing, and by the time he does so, Nick is in position. Monroe take another moment to appreciate the view- Nick there, waiting for him, his body on display, eager to submit to his lover.

Monroe climbs onto the bed as well, letting his hands play over the pale swell of Nick’s cheeks and skate over the darker cleft between them. It’s the Blutbad instincts kicking in for sure, but Monroe is definitely an ass man, and Nick’s ass is undeniably one to be admired.

Nick is tense, which is understandable given the newness of what he’ll be experiencing, but his erection hasn’t lessened with that tension. Monroe strokes Nick’s lower back, encouraging him to release some of that nervous apprehension.

“If there’s anything that isn’t working for you, or that you don’t like, _tell me_.” He instructs Nick, and watches the Grimm nod before he bends to nip lightly at the top of the cheek. Nick draws in a pleased breath at the action, and Monroe is emboldened. He lays a trail of kisses across the rounded globes before he brings his hands up to caress them and spread them apart, exposing Nick’s cleft. Nick tenses at the unfamiliar sensation, but relaxes when Monroe tells him to.

Monroe lets himself explore for another moment or two, letting Nick become accustomed to the idea of being touched in this way. Then, when he judges that Nick is ready, he takes the plunge, letting his tongue dart out to swipe across Nick’s entrance. Nick starts at the unfamiliar sensation, but by the third swipe of Monroe’s tongue, he begins to relax into it. By the time that Monroe begins fucking into him with his tongue, Nick is moaning and shifting on the bed, begging for more. He spends several minutes driving Nick crazy, administering a level of pleasure that’s enough to push him near the brink, but not over it. It’s a fair retribution, he figures, for the months of agony, loneliness, and uncertainty that Nick had made him suffer through. Eventually though, he himself is desperate for more, and it’s that that point that he reaches for the bottle of lube he had placed within reach on the corner of the bed.

He pops the cap and drizzles a more than adequate amount over his fingers. Properly slicked, he spreads Nick open again, circling one lubricated finger at his entrance. Gently, he begins to push inside, and even through Nick is wanting and eager, there’s some resistance to his intrusion.

“Bear down,” he instructs, “I will go easier.” Nick complies, and suddenly that finger is engulfed in the tight heat of Nick’s body. He presses in and out slowly, loosening his lover up. Some more lube and he’s able to add a second finger, and then later a third. By the second finger, Nick is begging again, insisting that he’s ready, pleading with Monroe to take him. Finally, Monroe pulls his fingers free, slicks up his cock with more lube, and aligns himself, pressing the head of his cock against Nick’s entrance, teasing him until he’s pleading to be fucked. He pushes in slowly, dropping kisses along Nick’s spine and giving him time to adjust, even though what he wants most is to sink into him balls-deep with one thrust. He bottoms out and stills there, relishing the hot slick press of sensation and letting Nick dictate when he should move. Nick arches back against him, and Monroe knows that he’s ready.

He thrusts slowly at first, but quickly picks up the pace, shifting and seeking for the correct angle to hit Nick’s prostate. He knows he’s found it when Nick suddenly cries out in pleasure. He thrusts faster, aiming for the same spot, urged on my Nick’s cries of _Oh God yes there harder yes God yes._ Nick is so tight though, and his reactions so uninhibited, that Monroe knows he’s not going to be able to last much longer. He reaches around to palm Nick’s erection, and rewarded with Nick’s shout of release after just a few strokes. The sensation of Nick tightening around him is enough to send him over the edge a moment later, collapsing exhaustedly atop the Grimm. Nick protests wordlessly when Monroe eases out of him, but seems contented to roll over and let Monroe kiss him gently, coaxing his lips apart with exquisite finesse.

“That was amazing.” He says softly, and Monroe can’t help but grin.

“As good as you were expecting?” Monroe’s tone is light, even joking, but Nick is entirely serious.

“Better,” he insists, and props himself up on his elbow so that he can kiss Monroe again, appreciating the fact that this time, he doesn’t have to worry about having anywhere else to be. He’s beginning to shiver though, the chill of the room creeping in as the heat generated by their coupling ebbs away. Monroe notices and pulls him closer, the warmth of his body keeping the chill momentarily at bay. Nick meets his gaze, and the rawness and vulnerability that he sees there takes his breath away. He’s reminded how new this is for both of them, even though it feels so right to be here that he wonders how he was ever able to leave before. Monroe must be thinking along the same lines, because his expression turns serious, and when he speaks, his voice is hushed.

“Stay,” he whispers, and it’s as much a plea as it is an invitation.

“Yes.” Nick promises. Then he adds, “I’m not going anywhere.” He’s happy to see Monroe’s smile return.

 

A few minutes later, they’re settled under the quilt, the softness of Monroe’s bamboo sheets sliding deliciously across their naked skin, and Monroe’s arm is curling around him, holding him close as they drift off to sleep. There’s so much that Nick wants to say to Monroe, so many ways that he wants to let him know that he’s happier and more contented now in this moment than he has been in ages- possibly in his life. But they’re both exhausted, and he knows that there’s going to be plenty of time to share this, to be together in the days ahead. He feels as though he’s finally come home.


End file.
